


Driving Lessons

by Goldy



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-08
Updated: 2013-07-08
Packaged: 2017-12-18 02:09:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/874471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldy/pseuds/Goldy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He decides not to tell her that he’s been busy trying to calculate the odds of their survival in the event of a head-on collision at the speeds they’re travelling at.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Driving Lessons

There’s a small, red convertible parked on the road outside of her flat.

He blinks and automatically digs through his pockets for his glasses before remembering that they are currently in a suit belonging to a different man in another universe. So he squints and circles the car once, twice, before crouching down to read the license plate (RoseT2000). Thoroughly fascinated, he straightens and then taps his finger against the back window.

He leaves a trail of smudged fingerprints in his wake.

Interesting.

“Doctor, are you coming in or not?” says an annoyed voice, and he looks over to where Rose Tyler is burrowed into her zip-up jacket, her nose beginning to turn pink.

She looks tired and frustrated and confused and rather like she could do with a hot plate of food and perhaps a long nap. He considers taking her hand and reassuring her that things will sort themselves out. They always have before, they’re _the Doctor and Rose_ , and a human-Time Lord metacrisis isn’t about to change that.

Instead what he says is, “Nice car. It’s very... well, it’s... it’s compact.” He circles it again before stuffing his hands into his pockets and rocking back on his heels. “Not very practical, though, is it? I didn’t know you were into... cars.”

Rose’s eyes widen slightly like he should have better things to do than talk about _cars_ after making a two-day journey home from Norway where they talked in short, clipped sentences and avoided as much physical contact as possible.

Granted, it wasn’t his best conversation starter, but _come on_. Rose Tyler? With a tiny, red convertible? It really _was_ a parallel universe.

“I like it,” Rose finally says defensively, but with the hint of a flush. “Dad bought it for me when I turned 21—he got the plates custom made and everything.”

“Yes, I can see that,” said the Doctor. “‘RoseT2000’?”

There was a definite flush now and a slight narrowing of her eyes. “Yeah, all right, it’s a bit posh—” he snorts, and Rose shoots him an annoyed glare, “—but so what if it is? Dad’s rich, and I took the bus for _years_ when I was on the Powell Estate. I know how rubbish public transportation can be—and... and... it’s fuel efficient, so it’s not even like I’m causing global warming or anything—and that’s not the point! I’m an adult. I can do what I want.”

She hefts her chin and he’s reminded of what she looked like, standing at the end of a battered London street, carrying a great big gun in her arms. A gun that on anyone else he would certainly, most definitely disapprove of. But with Rose...

He clears his throat. “Right. It’s just... blimey.” He studies the car again and then decides to hold out an olive branch. “I like it.”

He hears her swallow, and then there’s a hopeful sounding, “Really?”

“Yeah,” he says, and this time he means it. He looks over at her, and she’s biting her lip, suddenly looking young and anxious like the wrong word from him could send her clamming up forever. He thinks and then blurts, “I dunno how to drive.”

She blinks. “You drove that scooter in the 1950s. Queen Elizabeth’s coronation, remember?” She pauses. “You _do_ remember, yeah?”

“Of _course_ I remember,” he says, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice. Blimey, what was so hard about accepting that he was still the Doctor? So he grew out of a severed hand from his left-over regeneration energy. It wasn’t _that_ uncommon.

“Right,” Rose says softly.

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s handling this all wrong. “A scooter isn’t... quite the same thing as a car,” he says. “For one, it wasn’t quite as... bright red.”

Rose's stare becomes incredulous, but then she softens, one of her hands twitching at her side like she’s fighting the urge to reach for him. "Oh," she says before hesitatingly adding, “I could, you know.... teach you. If you want.”

Their eyes meet and a smile tugs at his mouth. “I’d like that,” he says.

“Okay,” Rose says and she returns his smile.

They stare at each other for several long moments. They keep smiling.

****

Rose Tyler’s mouth is pressed hotly against his, her fingers combing through his hair. The arm of the sofa digs uncomfortably into his backside, but he counts it as an acceptable trade-off.

Since turning part-human and arriving in Pete’s world, the Doctor has discovered several things that he missed out on as a Time Lord. Namely, kissing Rose Tyler and all the other things that it can (and usually does) lead to. Human hormones or not, he _really_ should have tried this years ago.

“So Doctor,” Rose begins and then sucks on his earlobe.

“Meurgher... what?” he manages and is impressed at his coherency, all things considered.

“I promised you driving lessons,” she says as her fingers work at his suit buttons.

“Driving... what?” he says, and tries to kiss her again.

She dodges out of his way and then stills, suddenly looking serious. “Driving lessons, remember? First day that you were here?”

“Oh,” he says. “Right. About that.” He takes in a few deep mouthfuls of air, buying himself time to think. She peers at him, smile hopeful. He forces himself to return the smile. “Driving lessons would be brilliant.”

She kisses him again with extra vehemence, arms winding away his neck. He kisses her back with slightly less enthusiasm, a familiar feeling sinking into his stomach. A feeling that feels very much like guilt.

****

“You sort of... put on a bit of gas as you pull up on the clutch,” says Rose, winding her way through a narrow London road. “You’ve just got to... _listen_ to the car.”

“Right, listen to the car, got it,” says the Doctor. One of his hands clutches the door handle, and his eyes are fixed on the road rushing by them.

“That’s not very helpful, though, is it?” says Rose. She glances over at the gear shift, teeth pulling at her lip as she considers. “Now remember what I said about starting in first gear—”

“ROSE. EYES ON THE ROAD.”

“Oh, right.”

The car jerks to the side and then slams to a stop at a red light. Rose shoots him a aren’t-we-having-so-much-fun-now grin.

Normally he would be the first to enjoy life-or-death experiences with Rose by his side, but squished into a tiny metal box on a tiny London road at rush hour seems like a terribly mundane way to go out.

“Maybe we could find a car park or something where you could practice,” says Rose as she takes off with a squeal. The car jerks a few times as she struggles to put it into the right gear. “Did you see what I did there?”

“Yup,” says the Doctor absently, eyes darting back and forth from the speedometer to the traffic. “Um, one question—who did you take your driving lessons with?”

Rose lifts one hand off the steering wheels and waves it in the air. The Doctor grips the door a little tighter. “Dad got us everything we needed when we got here—passport, birth certificate, driver’s license, everything.”

“Right. Course he did. So you haven’t actually taken the course, then?”

Rose frowns and weaves around the car in front of them. “Why are you asking?”

“Oh… no reason,” he says faintly. He decides not to tell her that he’s been busy trying to calculate the odds of their survival in the event of a head-on collision at the speeds they’re travelling at.

He shifts uncomfortably, knees thwacking against the dashboard in front of him. _Human beings_ , he thinks in disgust. Would it _really_ kill them to put at least _something_ into the fourth dimension?

“Okay, let’s recap,” says Rose, “what are the four steps to starting the car?”

“What?” he says blankly, turning to face her.

She frowns and then jams her foot down on the brake. The car jerks to a stop and cars on either side of them blare their horns.

The Doctor’s heart jumps into his throat. “Rose?” he tries. “What are you—”

“You’re not even listening,” says Rose. She steers the car out of traffic and pulls up to the side of the road, flicking on her hazard warning lights. “And don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing!”

“What?” he says again. “What I’m... Rose, what are you on about?”

“Just ‘cos you were the only one who could fly the TARDIS doesn’t mean we humans are completely rubbish at driving,” she says. “I know that travelling by car isn’t what you’re used to, but it wouldn’t kill you to pay attention—”

“Well, actually—” says the Doctor, thinking back to his calculation on the odds of their survival.

“I’m _not_ a bad driver!” says Rose. “Stop thinking that!”

“I wouldn’t!” he says unconvincingly.

She breaths in through her nostrils, but then says, in a voice that is far too calm, “You already know how to drive, don’t you?”

The Doctor opens his mouth, closes it, and then opens it again. “Yes,” he finally admits.

“I knew it,” Rose says. She leans back against the seat, eyes now on the road. “I _knew_ it.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes. The Doctor’s fingers tap at his side and he squints in front of him, shifting again in the too-small-seat. The guilty feeling comes back with a vengeance.

“Rose,” he begins and then stops, feeling useless.

She grips the steering wheel and then releases it, fingers dropping to rest in her lap. She sighs and then leans her head back. “I suppose there isn’t much you don’t know how to do after 900 years.”

“ _Well_...” he says, “you’d be surprised. I can’t jump on one foot while rubbing my stomach, for starters.”

Rose manages a hint of a smile, but then she shakes her head. “You lied, though,” she says. “Right there in front of me. If you lied about that, what else would you—”

“Oi,” he says sharply, doing his best in the small space to turn and face her. “Alright, I told a little white lie. But, Rose, you were there—you know what it was like those first few days. Now, I don’t usually like admitting this, but I was feeling more than a little desperate. _And_ —” he holds up a hand before she can say anything, “secondly, I would _never_ lie to you about anything important. I promise.”

Rose nods to herself quietly as she takes that in. Suddenly a mischievous smile crosses her face. She raises her eyebrows and says, “Fine, then. Back there, when we were driving—you were thinking about how rubbish I was, weren’t you?”

He pulls at an ear. “Well... ‘rubbish’ is a strong. But ah... essentially, yes.”

“Thought so,” says Rose. Then her grin widens. She pulls the keys out of the ignition and tosses them in his direction. “Reckon you can do better?”

He catches the keys in one hand and matches her grin.

****

The car takes the corner at a hard angle before he brakes, pulling to a sharp stop in front of Rose’s flat. The car jerks back and then stops. The Doctor grins in satisfaction, pulling the keys from the ignition and twirling them in his hand.

“That,” he says, “is how it’s done.”

Rose grips the seat on either side of her. “Uh huh,” she says. She opens the passenger door and then stumbles out, wobbling to one side. “Have you actually taken a driving test?” she calls to him.

“Yes—and I failed!” he calls back proudly.

Rose shuts the passenger door as he climbs out of the driver’s seat. “I’ve got an idea,” she says, now leaning one hand on the car and breathing heavily. “We start taking the bus.” 


End file.
